Her brow furrowed deeper as the stall owner approached her once more. He advised,
“Congratulations, miss, that’s the highest score yet. Do you wish to quit or continue? Knowing when to take your winnings can sometimes be a wisdom in itself.”
Isis understood his underlying intention. He clearly wanted her to abandon the challenge, take her current winnings, and leave.
This, however, was out of the question.
Her sole objective from the very beginning had been the cat plushie, and she would not waver.
“Continue,” Isis declared. “Sometimes, greed only brings greater rewards.”
“Then I hope your greed brings you fortune.”
Seeing her disregard his advice, the owner was left without recourse. He reluctantly set up the seventh challenge, all while silently praying she would miss the bullseye.
Yet, halfway through his silent plea, an arrow sliced through his vision in a graceful arc, striking the bullseye dead center.
Neither the fierce winds nor the impeding magic had managed to deter the arrow. This time, it wasn’t just the owner; even the onlookers fell into an instantaneous silence.
The seventh challenge was notoriously difficult, yet she had passed it with effortless grace.
‘Could she truly pass the eighth challenge?’
The owner numbly presented the eighth challenge. Its difficulty far surpassed the seventh’s, featuring even a moving target.
Even elves, who trained in archery from childhood, wouldn’t dare claim a fifty percent chance of hitting such a mark.
Witnessing the eighth challenge firsthand, the surrounding patrons were utterly incredulous. Not only were there magical and wind obstructions, but the target was also moving? And the firing position was incredibly distant…
“Without magic, how could anyone possibly hit that? The owner is being far too difficult with his customers!”
“I don’t think so. The seventh challenge was already hard enough; to make it even harder, what else could he do?”
“It’s still wiser to quit while you’re ahead. Reaching the eighth challenge means all the previous rewards are wasted.”
“You can’t say that. What if she actually hits it…”
Before the murmurs of discussion had even ceased, Isis released an arrow. Like a shooting star, it streaked through a gap in the magic, striking the moving target’s bullseye with unwavering precision, all under the owner’s horrified gaze.
All doubts vanished in that instant. The owner swallowed hard, vigorously rubbing his eyes twice before he could confirm he hadn’t been mistaken: the arrow had indeed found its mark.
Brushing a strand of hair aside, Isis placed her longbow down. She met the owner’s gaze, a slight smile gracing her lips.
“It seems my greed has come with no cost,” she remarked.
Stuttering slightly, the owner managed, “Co-congratulations, Miss Elf, you’ve completed all the archery challenges… and won the grand prize!”
Snapping back from his astonishment, the owner belatedly congratulated her on conquering all the trials. Finally, he retrieved the cat plushie from the prize shelf, reluctantly extending it towards Isis.
“This cat plushie is all yours!”
Though his words were generous, his hands clung stubbornly to the plushie, refusing to let go. It took several tugs before Isis finally managed to retrieve the cat plushie from his grasp.
Casting one last longing look at the plushie, the owner waved a hand grandly and grinned at the surrounding customers.
“No worries! This grand prize was just the first round! We still have a second round of prizes, and they’ll only get better! So don’t lose your motivation to participate!”
Immediately afterward, he instructed his assistant to display another grand prize.
The new grand prize wasn’t as endearing as the cat plushie, yet its rarity was comparable. To prevent Isis from entering the challenge again, he subtly glanced at her, then awkwardly added:
“Ahem, ahem. All contestants are limited to one challenge attempt. If you’ve tried today, you’ll have to wait until tomorrow.”
‘Tomorrow?’
The Divine Birth Festival would conclude tonight; by tomorrow, he would be long gone from this stall.
Isis merely shrugged. Regardless of the owner’s intentions, she had no desire for a second challenge.
She hadn’t wanted the cat plushie because of its rarity, but solely because Beacai adored it.
Descending from the challenger’s platform with the cat plushie in hand, she approached Beacai. Isis then presented the plushie to her.
“Here,” she said.
“Oh, it’s so cute! Thank you, Mama!”
Cradling the cat plushie in both hands, Beacai beamed with the innocent, radiant smile of a small child. The fluffy cat plushie wriggled slightly in her embrace, letting out a few soft meows, as if begging for a stroke.
Beacai lowered her head, gently stroking its head as tenderly as if it were a real feline. In doing so, she fulfilled her earnest desire to possess it.
To Isis, Beacai in that moment appeared utterly harmless and innocent. Setting aside her identity as an Evil God, Beacai on most days seemed no different from any ordinary little girl.
“Mama looked so cool just now! All those people were completely mesmerized.”
“Nonsense,” Isis replied.
“It’s true! I was captivated too!”
As if determined to prove her point, Beacai gently swayed the cat plushie in her hands. Her pretty face still held expressions of adoration and delight.
Isis smiled at the sight, intending to say something more. However, she paused, realizing that at some unknown point, she had truly embodied the role of Beacai’s mother.
When Beacai returned to Prelley, she would wait for her at the Christmas celebration. When Beacai desired a cat plushie, she would showcase her archery skills to win the adorable toy for her.
Unconsciously, everything she did was for Beacai’s sake.
Confronted with a child who could flash such a genuine smile over a mere plushie, she found herself utterly unable to be stern.
‘Perhaps, this isn’t so bad after all?’
Isis gazed at Beacai, who at this moment seemed utterly unlike an Evil God, and fell into a thoughtful silence.
After securing the plushie, Beacai took her hand, and they departed from the area. Isis couldn’t shake the feeling that someone in the crowd was watching them, though she wasn’t sure if it was just her imagination.
Yet, each time she glanced back, she found no one overtly staring, making her wonder if it was all a figment of her imagination.
‘Perhaps I’m just being overly sensitive,’ she mused. ‘If there truly were such gazes, Beacai would surely be the first to react with anger.’
With that thought, she decided not to delve further into the matter.
As they passed the snack stalls, a greedy Beacai purchased numerous treats. Knowing Isis’s preferences, she also made a point to find some fresh fruit for her at a fruit stand.
Beyond the food, the celebration also featured many captivating song and dance performances. These, however, were typically ritualistic, solemn and dignified, yet imbued with a subtle, unsettling air.
As they walked past a stall laden with ornaments, Beacai, still holding Isis’s hand, deliberately paused. Her gaze lingered among several pieces of jewelry, a thoughtful expression on her face, as if an idea had sparked within her.